Then the heat of his presence faded completely, leaving me grinning like an idiot. An obviously insane idiot, because Azriel and I were about as viable as Lucian and I when it came to anything resembling a relationship. But at least I could enjoy sex with Lucian.
Of course, Azriel had explored the intimate delights of flesh, but that didn't mean he'd actually enjoyed it. The term "enlightening" could have meant anything.
And I really, really needed to steer well away from this line of thinking. Azriel's presence might not burn the air, but that didn't mean he wasn't somewhere nearby and following every wayward thought.
I reached into my purse and retrieved the keys to my motorbike. She sat alone in the designated bike parking area, her sleek silver body gleaming brightly in the shadowy confines of the lot. The Ducati was one of the first things I'd bought when our café finally started making a profit, and even though her hydrogen engine was more than a little outdated these days, she was still a joy to ride.
I pulled out my helmet, leather jacket and pants, and Kevlar boots from the seat storage, then deposited my purse. Once I'd donned my bike gear, I climbed onto the Ducati and started her up. Unlike regular motorbikes, hydrogen bikes run relatively silent, with only the lit-up light-screen dashboard and the slight vibration running through the frame to tell you they've started. In fact, when they were first developed, our nanny-inclined government had forced manufacturers to add a fake engine noise so that pedestrians could hear them coming. These days, that rule was pretty much defunct, as pedestrians had far greater worries—namely the air blades, which were basically jet-powered skateboards. Those things really were dangerous—a fact I knew because I'd tried them recently. Not only had I almost decapitated Lucian, but I'd spent more time on the ground than I had on the damn blade.
I drove out of the parking lot and headed back into the city. The traffic was light, so it didn't take me too long to get there. I swung onto Lansdowne Street, then into Treasury Place. The Brindle was a white, four-story building that had once been a part of the Old Treasury complex. It looked innocuous until you neared it—that was when the tingling caress of energy burned across your skin. This place was protected by a veil of power, and it didn't suffer fools—or evil—gladly.
I stopped in the parking bays along the edge of a park that had once held the premier's office. After I'd stripped off the leathers and retrieved my purse, I locked the bike and helmet in place and headed into the Brindle. I climbed the steps and walked through the huge wood and wrought-iron doors into the shadowy interior. Even though I came here at least a couple of times a week, a sense of awe still struck me. This place—these halls—was almost as old as Melbourne itself, but it was so immersed in power that mini comets of energy shot through the air at any sort of movement.
The foyer wasn't exactly inviting, but the rich gold of the painted brickwork added a warmth that the somewhat austere entrance lacked. I walked on, my footsteps echoing in the stillness and little explosions of fire following in my wake. A woman appeared out of one of the rooms farther down the hall, then stopped, her hands clasped together in front of her tunic-clad body.
Her gaze rose to my hair, but all she said was, "It is good to see you again, Risa."
"And you, Margo." I stopped and made the expected tithe at the discreetly placed urn near the reception room's entrance. For normal dealings with the witches of the Brindle, it wasn't required, but Tao's situation was far from normal, and they'd been throwing a whole lot of resources behind the effort to make him whole again.
I hated to think just what it was going to end up costing Ilianna. Tithes or not, it was only thanks to her—and the promises she'd made to the Brindle that she wouldn't tell me about—that the witches had agreed to take him in.
The only thing she had said about the promises she'd made to get him treated scared the hell out of me. He saved my life at the cost of changing his very being. I can do no less for him.
This whole key mess was changing the very fabric of our lives, and there was virtually nothing any of us could do to stop it. I'd asked them both many a time to walk away, but they wouldn't. And while part of me was relieved, mostly I was just scared. For Ilianna and Tao, for what the ultimate cost to them might be.
They were my childhood friends, my best friends, and we not only shared a home, but owned and ran a café together. I didn't want to lose either of them.
I followed Margo down to the far end of the hall and through a small, ornately carved door. The hall beyond was smaller, its walls a soothing green. The air was a riot of indefinable scents that had my nose twitching even though it wasn't exactly unpleasant. We passed several rooms, including the one Tao had been in a few days ago.